


Dirty

by gothclark



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M, Romance, future fiction.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-11
Updated: 2010-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-12 14:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothclark/pseuds/gothclark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark stinks. Lex doesn't care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Smallville belongs to DC Comics.  
> Written for the clff 17. Thanks to girl, jfc, and lola for the beta. They all did such a wonderful job, helping with this story and it would not be as good as it is if not for their tireless efforts. This story is an alternate universe, first time, future fiction.

1

It was the first day of summer, and hot as hell outside. The truck beneath him lumbered and snorted as he pushed it into gear. It had already been a long day and was showing signs of stretching into the longest day ever, and Clark did not want to be here.

He stepped on the gas and moved the garbage truck a few feet to the next stack of cans. The ripe stench of trash filled his sensitive nostrils, and he fanned his hands in front of his face as if that would improve the air quality at all. He'd pissed his boss off one too many times with his sudden disappearing acts. If he hadn't come into work late so many times in the last few months, he wouldn't have gotten stuck with the worst route in Metropolis. Now he was here, doomed for the next six months to pick up trash in the grossest district in all of downtown. By now, Clark was used to his "savior complex" getting him into trouble. He couldn't help it -- he couldn't just ignore the sound of others in danger. It just wasn't his way, no matter how many times his parents had warned him.

The street he was on at the moment was actually quite a nice residential upper class area. Right after he finished the trash pickup for the rich folks, he was supposed to do the entertainment strip then go over to the market strip. That was the worst. The smell of fish alone always made Clark gag and reinforce his decision to become a vegetarian.

These days there weren't enough men to assign more than one person to a truck. It made the route so much easier for him. He could dress and look how he wanted without any complaints. He'd recently grown a beard and let his hair get long and shaggy. His father hated it and his mother loved him no matter how he looked. Clark smiled at the thought of the last phone conversation he'd had with his mom. He was supposed to go home for the weekend but other things had come up, things like a car crash and trapped motorists that Clark had managed to save without exposing himself. His job, though not very glamorous, afforded Clark the chance to be up early, leaving him free to prowl the city after hours to indulge his heroic streak. It didn't hurt that it brought in a decent paycheck, half of which he sent home to his parents.

He'd finally convinced them to sell the farm and buy a house inside the Smallville town limits. They'd also purchased the general store which they now ran for extra income. It was much more affordable than the farm had been, and it didn't require any farmhand. That had freed Clark up to live his own life. After a stint in collage which lasted exactly one year, Clark had decided it wasn't for him. He'd wandered around the county for awhile until finally settling down into a life of bachelorhood in Metropolis. His mother still bothered him constantly about his relationship situation. Luckily, Clark usually needed to get off the phone just as she brought up the subject of girls. He had yet to come out to them and, now that he was in his twenties, it seemed unnecessary.

Clark was about to pull out of the apartment complex parking lot when a pedestrian shot out in front of him. He slammed his foot on the brake just in time. The lumbering front-loading truck skidded to a halt, easily a foot from hitting the figure who now stood frozen on the spot. Clark's heart pounded in his chest. Who the fuck ran out in front of a giant truck? He could hear the man screaming at the top of his lungs. Clark stared wide-eyed as the bald man waved his arms emphatically and stood unmoving, blocking Clark's way.

"Don't you fucking watch where you're going?" the man shouted.

Clark jumped out of his truck and rushed around to its front, making sure not to get too close to the angry pedestrian. He stunk to high heaven today and he didn't want to inflict his stench on the man. That dumpster on Fifth Street had been filled with brackish water that just happened to rain down all over the cab of Clark's truck, splashing him in the face. That had been such a glorious experience, though he'd had worse.

"I am so sorry. I didn't see you," Clark apologized profusely, resisting the urge to move closer. He automatically x-rayed the man, checking to be sure he hadn't been injured. There was no way Clark had hit him, but it never hurt to be careful. That was when Clark suddenly realized who the man was. He gulped, taking a step back from Lex Luthor, the richest man in Metropolis. Clark had only ever seen pictures of Luthor, usually on the front page of the Daily Planet. Everybody who lived in Metropolis knew who he was.

"Maybe you need glasses then," Lex Luthor said, brushing at his suit, though it didn't look the worse for wear nor in any way out of place. In fact, it looked perfect and immaculate. Everything about Lex Luthor looked perfect and immaculate. He was dressed in a dark gray business suit with his trademark purple shirt and tie.

Clark reached up and gripped the side mirror of his truck, rubbing the back of his neck. He tried to look as contrite as possible and shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe," he muttered, remembering a time when he had needed glasses.

Mr. Luthor walked around to look at the name of the company on the side of the truck then turned to glance down at the name patch stitched to Clark's blue work shirt.

"Kent, eh?" he said, pointing at Clark's chest. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a cell phone out, flipping it open.

Clark rushed forward in a panic, ready to grab at Mr. Luthor's arm, but the man was agile and he ducked Clark's grasp, holding his briefcase up between them.

"Stay where you are," he ordered.

Clark could feel panic flare in his chest when he realized that Luthor was dialing the number on the side of the truck. This wasn't right. He hadn't even hit the man. What was Luthor so upset about?

Clark adjusted the baseball cap on his head and resisted the urge to lunge forward to yank the phone from Luthor's hand. Everybody always told Clark he let people walk all over him. He couldn't just stand here while Luthor called his boss, which was what it seemed was about to happen. Luthor turned his back on him.

Clark decided to take the initiative. He lunged forward and grabbed the small phone, accidentally cracking its outer shell. The sound, though tiny, seemed to echo down the alleyway behind them. They both froze.

"Tell me you didn't just do that," Luthor said, eyes fixed on Clark's hand. "Tell me that you did not just take my..." Luthor's face went red and his eyes flashed with anger. He glared up at Clark, mouth pinched, so the scar on his upper lip stood out white and stark. Clark stared at the pale line, unable to take his eyes off it.

"I'm sorry, I just..." Clark held the cell phone out and watched helplessly as Luthor snatched it back. "I didn't even hit you."

Luthor pressed dead buttons over and over, concentrating on the now useless piece of plastic. He sighed and flung it over his shoulder. For a minute Clark wasn't sure what was going to happen as Luthor stared at him, one finger held up as though he were about to say something, but then Luthor lowered his hand.

"You are so dead," he finally stated. Without another word, he turned and walked away.

Clark thought about going after him, but then changed his mind. He was filthy and he needed to finish his route. As he watched the retreating figure, Clark removed his baseball cap and ran his hand through his messy hair, pulling the length back until he could tuck it under the cap more neatly.

"I said I was sorry," Clark muttered under his breath as he yanked the door of the truck open and climbed up into the cab.

2

As soon as Clark parked the truck in the garage, he knew something was up. His boss, Trevor, was with Phil and they were walking towards him. Clark slammed the truck door shut and handed the keys to the mechanic on duty.

"You stink, Kent," he commented as Clark walked away. Clark didn't bother to respond to the jest. It was their little joke, only right now Clark was not in the mood. His boss was headed in his direction, and he looked mad. Clark removed his cap when Phil eyed it with distaste.

They stopped a few feet in front of Clark. A strong breeze was blowing in from the open garage doors. From the way Phil and Trevor wrinkled their noses, Clark could tell they'd caught a whiff of him.

"I know, I stink," Clark said before either of them could speak.

"Is it true?" Trevor barked, completely ignoring Clark's comment.

Clark blinked and stared, unsure what to say to that. Of course he stank. His uniform was covered in other people's trash. There wasn't any doubt about it, so why would Trevor ask if it was true?

"Are you stupid, Kent? Is it true that you almost ran over Lex Luthor this morning?" Phil shouted.

Oh, crap. That was what he meant.

Clark felt his face flush. "I did not almost run him over," he replied, more sharply than he'd intended. This was ridiculous. Luthor had really called his boss. Some part of Clark had been hoping that the man would just forget the whole thing. "He ran out in front of my truck."

"That's not relevant," Trevor shouted and thrust a piece of paper at Clark. "You're on probation." He glared first at Clark and then at Phil. Before either of them could say a word, Trevor stormed off.

Clark stared, stunned at the suddenness of what had just happened, and then finally read the paper. Sure enough, it was a complaint sheet. Clark had never gotten a complaint sheet in the five years he'd worked at Parker Waste Disposal. This was just insane. Luthor had caused him to be put on three month probation, and if Clark so much as stepped out of line during that period, he could lose his job.

"I can't believe..." Clark muttered, still staring at the sheet.

"Believe it. Boss spent an hour on the phone, getting his ass reamed by Lex Luthor," Phil chortled. To say that Phil disliked their boss, Trevor, was an understatement. He had a grin on his face like he'd just been given an early birthday present. "When he informed Luthor that we couldn't just fire you while you were under union contract, Luthor threatened him some more."

Clark looked from Phil to the doorway Trevor had disappeared through. He shook his head and wrinkled his nose. He desperately needed to get cleaned up. He crumpled the paper and shoved it into the pocket of his work pants.

"I need to go," Clark said as he walked out the garage doorway and slipped as quickly as he could behind the large building.

Seconds later, he was inside his small one-bedroom apartment, stripping off his uniform. This had been the largest place Clark could find that he could afford on his salary, but he really only needed a place to sleep and eat. The only creature comfort he allowed himself was the king-size bed he'd managed to purchase a few years back. It barely fit into the bedroom, but he'd still managed to squeeze in a small bedside table for his alarm clock. Otherwise, the place was sparsely furnished, though it included a few items he'd brought from the farm to add a personal touch and make it feel like home.

Clark desperately wanted to take a shower but he was too hungry to wait to eat. He quickly threw together a large ham and cheese sandwich and ravenously devoured it as he stripped out of his work clothes.

It felt good to finally be out of the dirty garments and under the hot spray of the shower. Clark luxuriated in the scent of the fresh-smelling lather. He soaped up his chest and slid his hands down to thoroughly clean himself. The attention was having another effect. His cock jerked happily and Clark grinned, closing his eyes.

His whole body tingled. Clark leaned against the tiled wall, pressing his forehead against his bulging forearm. He stroked himself, using the soap generously. His cock grew thick in his hand. He groaned, but then the thought of that paper and his encounter with Luthor filled his head. He could already feel his erection shrinking. Clark couldn't let that happen. He needed this release, so instead of thinking about the paper, he imagined that he had Luthor right there with him.

"Oh, yes," he moaned. "You'll pay."

That was enough to spur his libido. He closed his eyes and pictured Luthor on his knees in front of Clark, sucking him off. His cock jumped at the fantasy. He stroked the shaft faster and faster until his hand was just a blur. Seconds later, Clark shot against the tiles. He locked his knees for fear he might fall. His eyes shot open at the realization of what he'd just fantasized.

Just under the sound of the shower, Clark could hear a pounding. He groaned with frustration and turned the taps off. Sure enough there was someone knocking at his front door. Clark stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked through his apartment soaking wet as the knocking grew louder. Whoever was at his front door was not giving up.

"All right, hold your horses!" Clark shouted. He unlocked the door and swung it open to come face to face with Lex Luthor.

Clark should have cleaned his place. He hadn't had time to do so much as put the dirty dishes in the sink and put last night's pizza box by the trash can in the kitchen. This morning before he'd left for work, he'd looked around and thought, however briefly, that he should clean. After all, he could have had the place presentable in less than the time it took to walk across the room. Instead, he'd told himself that he'd get to it later. When he'd returned from work, he'd had just one thing on his mind.

Now here he stood, dripping water all over the hardwood floor, wearing nothing but a towel. It wasn't even a large towel. He had to hold it in place with one hand because it barely wrapped around his hips.

Clark slammed the door shut two seconds after he opened it. He stood frozen, seemingly incapable of moving. He clutched his towel tighter, until it started to rip. Water from his hair dripped onto the floor, and the sound seemed to fill Clark's ears.

That was when Luthor knocked again. Clark did not move. Part of him hoped that Luthor would give up and just go away, but that was ridiculous since Luthor had already seen Clark. Not only had he already seen Clark, but he'd seen Clark just after he'd been in the shower thinking lewd thoughts about Luthor. What if Luthor could tell just by looking at him? Clark shook his head and frowned at his own stupid train of thought.

"Open the door," Luthor called out.

Clark leaned forward far enough to peek through the peep hole. Luthor stood calmly, hands folded neatly. He wore a black suit -- not the same one he'd worn this morning when Clark had most definitely not almost run him over -- and black gloves on his hands.

Luthor leaned forward and placed his eye to the peephole.

"I can see you," he drawled, placing a gloved finger to the hole.

Clark pulled away, startled. He tightened his grip on his towel, and then realized that Luthor was probably kidding.

"Um, there's nobody home," Clark tried. There was a long pause. Clark turned his head and leaned forward again, this time not risking a peek out through the peephole.

"You just opened the door," Luthor finally said coolly. "And you were dripping wet in a towel. Get dressed and open the door like a civilized human being, or is your Neanderthal brain incapable of comprehending something so simple?"

Clark backed away from the door and glared at it as though the door had been the one to hurl the insult.

"I can hear you," Luthor taunted.

Clark turned and quickly rushed to his room. He dropped the towel and slipped into a pair of jeans. He yanked a shirt from his clean laundry pile and pulled it over his head as he walked back to the front door. Seconds later, though presentable, with hair still dripping wet, Clark opened the front door to find that Luthor was still standing there, patiently waiting.

"It's about time," he said.

Clark had half expected him to have given up and left, but unfortunately for him, Luthor was still at the door. It seemed he was a very determined person.

"Well," he drawled, "are you going to invite me in?"

Clark's mouth fell open. Who the hell did this guy think he was, besides the most powerful man in the city? He reluctantly swung the door open to allow Luthor room to enter. Luthor brushed past Clark, making sure his arm rubbed against Clark's chest.

"I have somewhere to be, so whatever you want, could you make it fast?" Clark said as politely as he could. He didn't really have anyplace else to be, but he wasn't going to allow Luthor to think that he just sat around.

Luthor sneered as he glanced at the state of Clark's apartment. It looked as though he were going to comment, but then changed his mind.

Clark crossed his arms. It was a tactic he used when he wanted to intimidate somebody. He towered over Luthor, staring down at him, a fake grin on his face.

"You look like a mountain," Luthor quipped. "You also clean up nice," he added as his gaze trailed from Clark's face down to rest on his chest. Luthor didn't seem intimidated.

Clark couldn't hide his surprise at the comment, nor could he stop the blush that tinged his cheeks. Was Luthor flirting with him? That wasn't possible. Clark had heard about his legendary womanizing. "Is there something you want?" Clark finally asked.

"Lex Luthor," Luthor said with an undisguised sneer. "I'll get right to the point. I'm here to offer you..."

"No thanks," Clark replied before Luthor could finish his sentence. Clark advanced on him, enjoying the thrill it gave him to watch Luthor take a step back.

Then Luthor placed a hand square on the center of Clark's chest. Clark stopped advancing. He could feel the warmth of Luthor's touch through his shirt.

"Hold on, Man Mountain," Luthor ordered in a deep, commanding voice.

Clark resisted the urge to shove Luthor away. Instead, he stepped away and leaned against the wall, arms folded, glaring as hard as he could without setting anything on fire.

"You haven't even heard the terms," Luthor said with a chuckle. He sauntered over to the window, looking out at the perfect view of a brick wall.

Clark stayed where he stood, glowering harder. "No thanks." He didn't need this right now. He was looking forward to relaxing, maybe flying out to visit his parents. Getting a proposition from Lex Luthor had definitely not been on the agenda.

Lex turned and quirked his lip in an obvious attempt to look charming, but Clark wasn't falling for that. He walked to his front door, opened it and gestured.

Luckily for Clark, Luthor took the hint, but he turned around one last time before Clark could close the door on him. "You'll regret this."

Clark smiled and nodded then closed the door in Luthor's face.

3

The rest of the week wasn't much better. Almost every day, Clark would get a phone call from Luthor, asking him if he'd changed his mind about taking him up on his offer. It went on like that for two weeks. Every afternoon when Clark arrived home from his shift, the phone would ring and Luthor would be on the other end of the line. Every time Clark answered the phone, he thought about letting it go to voice mail, but he just couldn't do that. He was too afraid he'd miss an important call. It didn't matter, because each time he picked up the phone, his answer was the same. He told Luthor very firmly that he wasn't interested in any offer the man could make.

Clark thought for sure he'd never stop hearing from Luthor, but by the end of the second week, the calls finally ceased. It felt odd to come home to a silent apartment after all those interruptions. Clark shook his head in dismay at such ridiculous thoughts. He was finally rid of that annoying stalker. He could return to business as usual. Each day, Clark did his route, went home and took very long showers. He'd step out of the shower and inevitably his eyes would travel to the phone. He kept waiting for something bad to happen. When it didn't ring, Clark would sigh with relief and go about his normal routine. He was sure that any day now, the other shoe was going to drop, but nothing happened.

Then one Saturday morning, hot and sweaty from his long run, wanting to get out of his jogging shorts, he came back to find that his key did not fit in his lock. He tried a different key, thinking maybe he'd inserted the wrong one. Frustrated, he tried all the keys on his chain at least five times. At the sound of a low whistle behind him, he spun around so fast he almost knocked a hole in the wall.

"Tsk, tsk, are you having trouble opening a door?" Luthor asked. He stood in the hall with his arms crossed, his hips tilted, and a cocky smirk on his lips.

Clark glared and advanced on him. He stopped in his tracks when Luthor held up a piece of paper, snatched it from Luthor's hand, and read it quickly.

"I'm being evicted!" he cried in outrage. What the hell was going on? He'd paid this month's rent. How could he have been evicted, and why was Luthor the one telling him he'd been evicted? Clark took a deep breath, and chanted the words 'must not kill annoying man' over and over in his mind. He wanted so badly to burn a hole in Luthor's forehead.

"I'm afraid so, Kent," Luthor said with a smug grin. He slapped a pair of very expensive-looking leather gloves against his hand. "I now own this building and I've decided that you're not my kind of tenant."

Clark's jaw dropped. He stared, too stunned to say anything to this outrageous declaration. How could he have just bought the building Clark lived in and throw him out? This couldn't be happening. This was just insane. Luthor was insane.

"You can't do this," Clark finally growled.

Luthor smiled smugly. "Oh, but I can," he said as he advanced on Clark, his eyes traveling up from Clark's running shoes to linger on his sweaty chest and finally settling on Clark's face. He apparently liked what he saw, because he licked his lips slowly.

Clark watched as Luthor's pink tongue swiped at his top lip, lingering on the horizontal scar that bisected it. Luthor chuckled, snapping Clark out of his trance.

"What about my things?" Clark finally asked.

Lex leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. "You mean my things," he whispered.

Clark could feel the heat build in the back of his eyes. The temptation to burn Luthor where he stood was getting harder and harder to fight.

Luthor smirked and sauntered over to the elevator, casually pressing the down button. "There are really cheap motels just down the block," he threw over his shoulder as he stepped into the elevator and the door slid shut.

Clark rushed and managed to slip his hand in to stop the closing door just in time. For a second, Luthor looked startled, but he regained his composure very quickly.

"What do you want from me?" Clark asked, his frustration level rising as they stood there. It looked like there was no way to get out of this. He would not be able to shake his stalker.

Luthor smirked and his gaze moved from Clark's chest up to his face.

"Agree to go out on a date with me," Luthor finally said.

Nothing had prepared Clark for those words. He had to admit that Luthor was an attractive man, but there was no way he would give into Luthor's bullying tactics, not to mention that smug look in his eyes that clearly said he thought he was going to win.

Then there was that mouth. Clark's gaze fell on the scar. He'd thought about that mark more times than he could count over the last few weeks. If he was truthful with himself, he'd admit that he found Luthor's mouth very fascinating.

"NO!" Clark shouted, irritated with himself.

The smirk faded quickly and Luthor advanced on Clark, forcing him to step back. Clark bumped against the wall, as Luthor almost pressed closer. Their eyes locked and for a second Clark was sure Luthor was going to grab him and kiss him. The thought sent a thrill through Clark's entire body and he tilted his head, sliding down the wall until he was face to face with Lex. This close he could practically taste Luthor's mouth. His lips looked so enticing.

Clark parted his lips, his eyes locked on Lex's ripe mouth. Luthor leaned in closer, placing a hand on the wall right beside Clark's head. With Luthor so near, there was no way Clark could ignore the fact that he smelled so good. Just beneath the cologne, Clark detected the strong odor of perspiration and sex. Clark's cock hardened in his shorts.

"Then I guess..." Luthor whispered into Clark's ear, his lips brushing against the shell, causing Clark's cock to jump,"...you'd better go find someplace to live." As soon as the words were out, Luthor stepped back and straightened his jacket. He smirked triumphantly as he turned and walked away, leaving Clark to slide down the wall until he sat on the floor with a loud thud. He watched as the elevator door slid shut, taking Luthor away.

4

That was only the beginning.

Clark's best friend, Chloe had generously offered the use of her sofa, but he couldn't stay forever. What Clark really wanted was his own apartment back. It was crazy of Luthor to do this, and Clark wasn't going to give in to any of his demands. At first, Luthor held onto Clark's belongings, leaving Clark messages about how Luthor would auction them off. When Clark ignored those, Luthor sent Clark a Polaroid of Clark's Warrior Angel action figures with a note that read 'give in or they will suffer the consequences.' Clark laughed so hard, he almost broke the chair he was sitting in, but he wasn't quite ready to admit defeat. He wasn't going to say yes to Luthor's demands for a date.

That went on for two weeks, then one Wednesday morning Clark received a package at Chloe's place. Chloe had already gone to work and Clark was getting ready for his shift when there was a knock at the door. It turned out to be a delivery man. Clark took the large, heavy box, thanking the delivery man with a smile and a five dollar tip. He set it on the kitchen table and opened the small envelope attached. It was purple and inside was a note from Luthor. The note read 'Join me for a night out. I hope I got your measurements right. I've never fitted a man mountain before.'

Clark smiled in spite of himself and tore the box open, pushing the purple tissue paper aside. It was a gorgeous expensive-looking suit. The fabric felt soft to the touch. He tried on the jacket first. It fit him perfectly. There was even a pair of black oxford shoes in his size. Underneath it all was an invitation to the museum opening that Friday. LuthorCorp was sponsoring an Alexander the Great exhibit. The phone rang just as Clark was tucking everything back into the box.

"Hello, Chloe Sullivan's," Clark answered.

"Will you attend?" Luthor's voice on the other end asked without a hello.

Clark grinned. "I'd really like to, but I'm busy that night," he replied. This was irritating. Luthor had some nerve, asking Clark to attend a party when he'd stolen Clark's life.

"I'll give you back your Warrior Angel action figures," Luthor drawled.

"I don't think so," Clark finally replied, after pretending to think it over. He sat down on a chair and pulled the box closer, examining a tie pin. It was two stylized letter Ls. Clark fingered the intricate pattern between the letters. This pin alone must have cost more than Clark made in a month. He held it up to the light. Were those diamonds?

"Does it fit?" Luthor went on as though Clark hadn't spoken.

"It does," Clark glanced at the size tag on the inside of the pale pink shirt. "But pink really isn't my color. I'm more of a blue man." Despite the fact that Clark should have been hanging up on Luthor, he found the conversation intriguing.

"I really thought for sure that you were a pink man," Luthor teased.

Clark read the invitation. "Throw in my apartment and my things and you have yourself a deal. I'll even wear the pink shirt."

"I look forward to it," Luthor said and hung up without giving Clark a chance to respond. Clark tossed the tie pin in the air and caught it deftly in his hand.

The next morning Clark received a set of keys and by that evening he was back in his own apartment. His things were all still in their places, indicating that nothing had ever been moved. Clark sighed as he lay his head down on his own pillow and fell asleep in his own bed. The only thing he needed to deal with was Friday's party. It was going to be a piece of cake. Clark would show up, tell Luthor off, and then leave.

5

Friday night, Clark showered, trimmed his beard, and dressed in the new suit Luthor had sent. He decided not to wear the tie. There was no way he'd wear the tie. It would have been like wearing Luthor's mark or something, and that was definitely not Clark's style. However, he had to admit that Luthor had been right about the pink shirt. It did look good on him.

Clark tucked the invitation (which was embossed "by invite only") in his jacket pocket and decided to walk to the party. The museum was just a few city blocks from his place. The night was warm, but not as hot as it had been the last few days. When he finally arrived at his destination, Clark paused in front of the museum, surveying the scene before him. He glanced at his watch and noted that it was after nine, which meant that the party had started. There was a large crowd outside. A man dressed in a tuxedo opened the door of each limousine as it pulled up. Men and women stepped out of them, each more glamorous than the last. Clark was completely out of his element here. Why would Luthor want to invite some guy who would obviously stick out from the crowd?

As soon as Clark entered the front doors, a man stopped him and asked for his invitation. Clark handed it over and walked past him and down the short flight of stairs to the main foyer of the museum. He'd only ever been to Metropolis Museum once as a teenager for a school trip. He didn't remember it being this ornate. The decorations were flashy and elaborate, most likely for the opening.

The place was crowded and Clark didn't see Luthor anywhere. He moved with the throng until he was in Luthor Hall, the location of the official party. Somebody offered Clark a glass of champagne and he took it, walking around to stare at the exhibits. They weren't very interesting. The only piece that caught Clark's attention was a jewel-encrusted breastplate. Clark leaned in to read the card.

"Alexander wore that when he went into battle," a smooth voice said into his ear. Clark looked up find Luthor standing before him. Luthor was dressed in a dark suit with a deep purple tie. Clark noticed that he wore a tie pin that was the duplicate of the one he'd sent to Clark.

"It looks heavy," Clark remarked, pretending to be fully engrossed by the workmanship. The snake on the chest formed an S shape. There were jewels adorning the shoulders and the snake. Clark thought it looked kind of tacky.

"I don't believe Alexander really cared about that. He only wanted his men to--"

"Worship the ground he walked on?" Clark interrupted with a slight grin.

Luthor smirked and arched his brow. "He already had their admiration and their devotion," he said smugly.

Clark took this opportunity to pluck the tie pin from his pocket. He turned to face Luthor, puffing up his chest. He was fully prepared to give Luthor a piece of his mind, but instead he leaned in close, brushing his whiskers against Luthor's cheek. Clark waited until Luthor leaned into him, and then he took hold of Luthor's hand and placed the pin in his palm.

"I think this belongs to you," Clark said in his deepest voice. Luthor pulled away, seemingly thrown by Clark's nerve. He recovered quickly enough, taking the pin and tucking it into his own pocket. Luthor's eyes were trained on Clark's chest as he adjusted his own tie. Then he turned his head and smiled at somebody else. Clark turned to find a beautiful brunette woman heading their way. She wore a slinky black dress, high heels, and had legs that seemed to go on forever.

Lex," she purred, practically falling into Luthor's arms and embracing him. Luthor looked surprised to see her.

"Victoria, I had no idea you were going to be in town," he said, pushing her to an acceptable distance. Clearly she had no clue that Luthor didn't want his personal space invaded. Clark lifted his drink to his mouth to hide his mirth. He went back to examining the breastplate, but Luthor was not going to let him get away.

"I'd like you to meet Mr. Kent," Luthor said, directing her attention to Clark.

Victoria eyed Clark with obvious feigned interest, and then held out her hand. She still had a hand on Luthor's arm as though she were afraid he would escape her clutches.

Clark shook her hand and greeted her politely. She took the opportunity to slip her arm around Luthor's waist.

"And what is it that you do?" she asked, obviously trying to be polite.

"I drive a garbage truck," Clark said before Luthor could respond on Clark's behalf. Victoria sneered visibly and wrinkled her nose. She leaned in close to Luthor and whispered into her ear. Unfortunately for Clark, with his special hearing, he picked up every lewd word. Luthor smiled with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Excuse me, Clark. I have guests to attend to," Luthor said. And with those words, he turned and left Clark alone with the breastplate of Alexander and a room full of strangers.

Clark watched as Luthor and Victoria moved through the throngs of guests. He couldn't help but tune into their conversation. Victoria was leaning in close, asking for a private tour of the party, and Luthor was whispering promises of making her stay in town memorable. Clark tuned them out and concentrated on the displays.

"You look like you'd rather be someplace else," a voice broke in on his musings. Clark turned to find an older man in a well-tailored suit standing beside him. He had a long flowing mane of dark hair that was peppered with grey. He held a champagne flute in one hand, and stood way too close for comfort. Clark hadn't even heard him approach. He took a step away, putting the Alexander display case between them, but the man sauntered up to Clark once again.

"Actually, I was just about to leave," Clark said coolly, sure he'd seen this man somewhere before.

"Forgive me. I'm being such a rude host. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Lionel Luthor," he said as he held out his free hand.

Clark shook the offered hand, taking note of the firm grip. Of course Clark had seen Mr. Luthor. His picture had been on the front page of the Daily Planet many times and he'd closed down the fertilizer plant in Smallville, causing the demise of the entire town.

"I couldn't help but notice that you were talking to Lex," Lionel Luthor said with obvious interest. "I don't recall you from the guest list and I know I'd remember someone..." Luthor's gaze traveled up Clark's body, not even bothering to hide his interest in Clark, "...of your stature."

Clark was sure Mr. Luthor wasn't talking about Clark's standing in the business community. He stared Luthor straight in the eyes, sipping the last of his drink. When Clark didn't speak, Luthor shifted uncomfortably on the spot then feigned a friendly wave to a couple walking past. They stopped, giving Clark the opening he needed to escape. There was no way he was going to spend the evening talking to that man. He was on Clark's list of people to tell off if he ever met them in person, except Clark had never actually gotten to meet any of the people on the list until tonight. He never imagined he'd ever have a real opportunity to say the things he'd dreamed of saying.

Clark ducked out of the museum, glad to be away from the crowd. It felt good to breathe in air that wasn't reconstituted nor filled with the strong smells of colognes and perfumes. Clark had never really gotten used to crowds, and the outside of the building was surprisingly silent. There wasn't anybody out in the heat. Clark guessed that everybody was inside where it was much cooler. To him it didn't really make a difference. The climate changes never affected him the way it did other people. On hot nights like this, Clark was glad he was different.

No sooner had Clark taken the short flight of stairs down to street level when he spotted the late bus making its way down the street, only there was something wrong. The bus jumped the curb onto the sidewalk. Clark quickly looked around and noticed there was a man asleep on a bench in the path of the bus. He didn't have time to think. In the blink of an eye, he was in front of the bus, bracing for impact. Clark stood with his shoulder to the bus. It hit him going at fifty miles an hour and didn't stop -- dragging Clark along with it -- until it finally halted just a foot from the man on the bench. Clark pulled himself from the twisted wreck of the front grill, brushing fruitlessly at the suit jacket. It had torn on the shoulder he'd used to stop the bus. He glanced down to see that the man hadn't even stirred.

Before anybody could see him, Clark ran from the scene and hid around the corner, heart pounding in his chest. The sound of sirens screamed in the night, heading for the museum. Clark had just enough time to make sure everybody on the bus was unharmed.

6

Luckily, Clark had the next day off. He was happily sound asleep and deep in a dream about floating when his phone started to ring. He opened his eyes to find that not only had he dreamed he was floating, he actually was floating. Startled by the view from five feet above his bed, Clark came crashing down to earth. The bed collapsed underneath him, making a noise Clark was sure would wake the neighbors. The interruption was more than just irritating. He'd planned to sleep in for the first time in a long while. Not only had that been interrupted, but Clark also had a hard on the size of Kansas.

Groggily, he rubbed sleep from his eyes and reached for his phone. He placed the receiver to his ear after he'd fumbled with the cord, almost ripping the phone out of the jack as he'd reached down to adjust himself. He chuckled softly, eyeing the bulge in his briefs.

"Speak now or forever hold your peace," Clark said into the phone, smiling as he lay back down, wiggling his butt cheeks. His bed felt warm and he was so horny, he hoped that his strange telephone manners would turn off whoever had decided to call him (he glanced at his bedside clock to find that it was eight fifteen -- in the morning). Frustration coursed through him and Clark was about to hang up when the person on the other end finally spoke.

"You left without saying goodbye," Luthor purred with just a hint of snide.

Clark rubbed his bare chest, a thrill shooting to his cock. It jumped in its white cotton confines.

"You were busy. Besides, I couldn't find you to thank you for your hospitality," Clark said as he rubbed his chest, sliding his hand down into his briefs. Hearing Luthor's voice was definitely having a delicious effect on his already inflamed libido.

"Let me make it up to you," Luthor replied.

Clark heard a sound in his living room, immediately sitting up and alert.

"I'll have to get back to you on that," Clark said cautiously. The door to his room swung open.

"That won't be necessary," Luthor said, holding up a paper bag, cell phone to his ear. He stood in Clark's bedroom doorway, dressed in a white dress shirt and gray slacks. As he smiled at Clark, Luthor's eyes trailed down to rest on Clark's crotch.

Clark gripped a handful of bed sheets, coved himself, and hung up his own phone. "What the fu-," he cut himself off. "How the hell did you get in?" Even as the words left his lips, he knew how Luthor had gotten into his place. He must have duplicated Clark's key. After all, Luthor did own the building now.

"I brought croissants," Luthor said, disconnecting his cell phone and brandishing the paper bag again. "Do you want me to wait while you..." he cleared his throat and again his eyes trailed down to Clark's crotch."...take care of..." he gestured at Clark.

"No," Clark snarled. "But you could wait for me in the kitchen."

Luthor leaned casually against the doorjamb, and smirked.

"It's not anything I haven't seen before," he drawled. Luthor's eyes were fixed on Clark's chest.

Clark glared and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, but he didn't move to stand. Maybe Clark was imagining the hunger in Luthor's expression, because seconds later, the man was turning to leave him alone. He wasn't going to admit that a small part of him was actually disappointed that Luthor had actually done as he'd asked.

Clark pulled on the first pair of jeans he could find and yanked on a t-shirt as he made his way to the bathroom. Clark took his time to wash up, and when he finally came out, the smell of coffee filled his. He entered the kitchen to find Luthor already seated at the small dinning table two cups of steaming coffee before him. Luthor had placed the pastries he'd brought on a plate. Clark noted that he'd used the large cow pattern plate.

He pulled the chair out and turned it around to straddle it, resting his arms across the back. Luthor sat with legs crossed and one elbow on the table. He pushed a cup closer to Clark and picked his cup up to sip at the hot brew.

"The stalker can make coffee," Clark quipped as he tested the drink. He had to admit, it wasn't half bad. He set his cup down and reached out for a croissant, eager to taste one. He chomped down, biting the soft pastry in half, his gaze fixed on Luthor.

"See," Luthor quirked his lips. "I knew you'd be hungry." He blew on his coffee then watched as Clark gobbled down two more of the soft crescent rolls.

"That was tasty," Clark grinned, licking his lips. Luthor reached out and touched the corner of Clark's mouth with a fingertip.

"You missed a crumb," he said leaning in closer.

"Why don't you help me out with that," Clark teased, suddenly feeling emboldened. After all, Luthor's earlier taunts had pushed Clark almost to the edge. It was only fair that Clark return the favor.

Clark lowered his eyelids when Luthor leaned in closer, brushing his lips against the corner of Clark's mouth, sending a shiver through him. Luthor rubbed his cheek against Clark's whiskers. Just a turn of his head and their lips touched.

In response, Luthor licked the corner he'd pointed to earlier. Clark didn't move away. Instead, he leaned even closer to give Luthor better access, and Luthor took full advantage of the new position. He gently grazed his lips over Clark's, their hot breaths mingling.

"Get out," Clark finally whispered.

Luthor pulled back, startled for a moment. He covered his surprise with a smirk, and Clark stood up. He crossed his arms and stared down at Luthor, who hadn't moved except to sit back and stare up at him, a twinkle in his startling blue eyes into which Clark was finding hard not to stare.

"I brought breakfast," Luthor said as a reminder. He motioned to the now crumb-filled plate. When Clark didn't move, Luthor finally stood and headed to the front door.

Clark followed, holding his hand out. "The key you used," he demanded.

Luthor handed it over without argument. That probably meant he had more copies, but it wasn't something Clark could really do anything about this early in the morning.

Luthor opened the front door, and then turned to face Clark. They stood with eyes locked and Clark couldn't help but allow a smile to break his serious demeanor. Luthor stepped out into the hallway.

"Let's do breakfast together again soon," he said, lifting his hand to wave.

"Stop stalking me," Clark said just before he slammed the door in Luthor's face. The sudden silence was stark, but if he listened carefully, Clark could hear Luthor's measured breathing. He leaned in to peek through the peephole. Luthor stood as Clark had left him with his hand still in the air. Clark watched as he lowered his hand and smirked. He stood on the spot for a few seconds then finally turned to leave.

Clark swung the door open just as Luthor reached the elevator. "Is she still in town?" he asked as he leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms.

Luthor swung around, obviously surprised that Clark had opened the door. He stalked back to stand before Clark, his eyes fixed on Clark's, a confused expression on his face.

"The woman from the museum. Is she still in town?" Clark clarified.

"Does it matter?" he asked, reaching out to touch Clark's hair.

Clark grabbed hold of Luthor's arm and pulled him close to his chest, capturing his mouth in a hard, wet kiss, throwing Luthor off balance. Luthor had no choice but to stumble into Clark's arms.

Clark broke the kiss and pushed Luthor away, making sure he was able to stand on his own feet.

"I don't share," he said. With those words, Clark slipped past a still dazed Luthor and into his apartment to slam the door shut once again.

"I'll pick you up at eight," Luthor called out a few minutes later.

7

When Luthor arrived for their date, Clark was just buttoning up his jeans. He answered the door and leaned against the doorjamb. He scanned Luthor's full body from the tips of the black dress shoes up to his eyes.

"I take it this place we're going to is really ritzy?" Clark asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question. It was obvious from the dark blue suit and red tie that Luthor was planning on taking Clark someplace fancy.

Luthor's gaze fell on Clark's bare chest and stayed there.

"Uh, yeah. You're a little underdressed for it," he finally managed.

Clark reached out and gripped Luthor's tie, yanking him into the apartment and slamming the door shut behind them. He pushed Luthor against the wall, their bodies touching from toe to shoulder, and mashed their lips together. Clark pressed his leg between Luthor's thighs, practically lifting him off the ground. It had been way too long since Clark had gotten any action, and suddenly this seemed like a great idea.

Luthor gripped Clark's upper arms and forcefully pressed against him, grinding their crotches together. Clark moaned from the wonderful feel of friction. It felt so damn good to let his passion overtake him. He managed to stifle a whimper when Luthor broke the kiss for air, and stared deep into Clark's eyes.

"I was under the distinct impression that you would continue to fight me," Luthor whispered, huskily. He reached up to grab a handful of Clark's long curls, pulling on them to tilt Clark's head.

"I changed my mind. What do you say to us eating in?" he asked, pressing his lips to Luthor's bared throat.

"I say I can be flexible," Luthor responded with a quirk of his lips. Clark kissed up this throat until he reached Luthor's ear.

"I hope so," he mouthed, nibbling on the lobe. Without another word, he took Luthor by the hand and yanked him bodily toward the bedroom. He kissed Luthor passionately. Their tongues played and Clark smiled, pushing Luthor until he fell back on the bed. His gaze trailed down to the very prominent bulge in Luthor's pants, eyeing it hungrily.

"So just like that, you changed your mind?" Luthor asked. Sprawled across Clark's bed, he didn't look at all like the richest man in Metropolis. He looked sexy and good enough to eat.

"Strip," Clark ignored the question and sat down on the bed, reaching for Luthor's jacket.

When Luthor didn't make a move to obey Clark's request, Clark unbuttoned the jacket and slipped it from Luthor's shoulders, tossing it aside. Luthor watched the jacket sail over Clark's shoulder, his expression decidedly nonplussed.

"It just seems very strange that you would suddenly change..."

Clark removed Luthor's shoes, tossing each one over his shoulder, completely oblivious to where they would land.

"Are you going to strip or should I continue?" he asked with a smirk, as he pulled Luthor's socks off. Luthor watched each one as it sailed to the floor. Clark leaned in and cupped Luthor's face in one big hand, kissed him gently, and then smiled. "Isn't this what you want?" he said with a grin.

Luthor's eyes went wide and he jumped up from the bed, stepping away from Clark. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

"You want to be the one doing the pursuing," Clark said with a triumphant smirk. He stood and Luthor backed away, shaking his head.

"That's not it," he insisted.

"Let me put on something appropriate for where we're going," Clark said with a chuckle. He stopped as he walked past Luthor and leaned in close. "I'm not that easy," Clark added as he left Luthor alone in the room. Maybe what he'd just done hadn't been fair, but the look on Luthor's face was worth it.

8

After the dinner, where they'd talked about everything but themselves, they decided to go for a walk. It was nicer out this evening with the airing cool down from the heat of the last few days. They'd walked around aimlessly until they'd somehow ended up outside the museum, sitting on a stone bench. Clark had worn his best blue blazer and black slacks with a white dress shirt. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the large window, staring out at the empty street.

"Funny we should end up here," Clark said as Luthor crossed his legs and folded his hands on his knee. The night was silent, punctuated by the familiar noises of the city after hours. Clark relaxed and took a deep breath, enjoying the calm. He concentrated on the sound of Luthor's heartbeat, lulled by the rhythmic beats.

"I hear you had a run-in with my father last night," Luthor finally said after a long silence.

Clark grinned and ducked his head at the thought of the obvious interest the older Luthor had taken in him when he had first met Clark. He debated whether to say anything, but then Luthor spoke up.

"I know how he can be," Luthor said, turning his body so that he could face Clark. "I hope he didn't bother you too much." The tone in Luthor's voice spoke volumes, and Clark chose to hold his tongue. Lex was obviously aware of his father's ways.

"You're not worried about my virtue are you, Mr. Luthor?" Clark teased, unable to help himself.

Luthor threw his head back and chuckled, dryly. "Somehow I have a feeling I don't have to worry about that with you." He slid closer to Clark and leaned in.

Clark nervously eyed the area, making sure they were alone. He knew it was late, but he didn't want the night to end.

"Call me Lex," the smiling man added.

Clark relaxed with his hands still tucked in his pockets, tilting his head until he was staring deep into Luthor's blue eyes. In them, Clark thought he saw not just longing, but a plea for understanding.

"You'd be right, Lex," Clark whispered. Their lips gently brushed, sending a thrill through Clark's whole body.

Lex leaned in closer, pressing his hands up against the glass on either side of Clark's shoulders. He rubbed his face across Clark's whiskered cheeks like a cat marking its territory. It felt incredibly sexy, and any second now, Clark expected him to start purring.

"You keep doing that and something really naughty is liable to happen right here on this bench," Clark said with a low chuckle. He reached up to cup Lex's shoulder with one hand, gently rubbing a spot with his thumb.

Lex turned his head and licked the shell of Clark's ear. "Mm, I'm willing to take that risk," he murmured.

Clark laughed and gripped both of Lex's shoulders, gently nudging him away. Their eyes met, and Lex's gaze was filled with lust. Clark could tell he was used to getting what he wanted and that waiting was not a word in his vocabulary. "Not on the first date," he insisted. "Besides, I need to get home, because I have an early morning tomorrow."

Clark stood and brushed at his trousers, glancing at his wrist watch. It was almost three AM. Clark had to be at work in a few hours.

Lex stood with a coy smile on his lips. "You're seriously going to play hard to get."

Clark nodded and spread his arms wide. "You're not a romantic?" he asked teasingly.

Lex pulled out his cell phone and pressed a button, placing it to his ear. "I can be romantic," he said with a grin. "Brent, I need a car at the museum, side door," he said into the phone. To Clark he said: "Can I drop you off at your place?"

"It's cool. I live close by." And with those words the date was over. They stood in silence as they waited for Lex's ride to arrive. Clark opened the door for him and stayed until the car had rounded the corner. When they were out of sight, he ducked behind the building and shot into the air like a rocket. There was no way he would sleep now after what had just happened. Clark was on cloud nine and in seconds he was physically above the clouds, a huge grin on his face as he soared higher and higher.

9

The days grew hotter and hotter. At the end of his shift, Clark smelled so horrible even his co-workers avoided going near him when he parked the truck and checked in with the supervisor. He was about to leave when Trevor handed him an envelope that jangled.

"Don't ask me," Trevor said with a shrug. "I was just told to give this to you." He walked away, obviously wanting to get away from Clark as fast as possible.

Clark rushed out of the garage, tearing the purple envelope open. A set of keys spilled out into his hand just as the roar of an engine filled the air. The sound was coming from a Harley, the largest Clark had ever seen. It pulled into the parking lot and stopped a few feet in front of Clark. The driver turned the engine off and removed his helmet, which he set on the seat of the bike as he dismounted.

"You Clark Kent?" the man asked.

Clark nodded, but his eyes were fixed on the shiny chrome of the bike. It was painted red with Harley Davidson emblazoned in white on the side of the gas tank.

The man started to walk away, but Clark rushed over and grabbed his arm, spinning him around.

"What is this?" he asked, motioning to the bike.

"How should I know? I was just told to deliver this to Clark Kent," the man said with a shrug, and then left.

Clark approached the motorcycle, gliding his hand over the leather seat, admiring the sleek design. He gripped the handlebar experimentally. Then he remembered the keys and the envelope. Clark checked the envelope and found a note inside.

"You can't drive around in a garbage truck all the time."

Clark noticed that there were still a set of keys in the ignition. He smiled and shook his head. Pocketing the keys he'd received in the envelope, Clark slipped the helmet on and mounted the cycle. The engine roared to life as he turned the key. The last time he'd driven a bike, he'd been as a teenager.

The engine throbbed between his thighs and Clark kicked the stand up, easing the sleek machine out onto the road. Seconds later, he was tearing down the street. Clark could have run or even flown anyplace in the city, but the feeling of an engine under him had always held an appeal for him since he was able to drive. This bike handled beautifully and Clark reveled in the feeling of the wind against his body. He had to make it a short ride because he was still in desperate need of a shower. Reluctantly, he pulled up to park at his apartment.

He showered quickly and dialed the private number Lex had given him.

"Where are you?" Clark asked in a demanding tone.

"No hello?" Lex said with a chuckle. Clark could hear the sounds of waves in the background.

"Answer the question," Clark said, ignoring Lex's quip. He tossed his towel on his bed and yanked a clean pair of briefs on with the phone still pressed to his ear. When Lex didn't respond right away, Clark set the phone aside so he could quickly pull on black jeans and a white sleeveless muscle undershirt. It only took a second and the phone was back on his ear. Lex was already replying.

"...at my office at the moment. Is there a reason you're calling me?" he asked. Clark could hear the slyness in his tone.

"Be outside in..." he glanced at his watch. "...ten minutes." He pressed end before Lex could object and tucked the phone into the pocket of his leather jacket, which Clark slipped into on his way to the door. He still had those leather boots he hardly ever wore anymore and they still fit.

Clark hopped onto the motorcycle and gunned the engine, tearing out of the parking lot with a grin on his face. A few minutes later he pulled up in front of LuthorCorp. Lex stood outside dressed in a dark suit. He smirked as Clark pulled the helmet off, but the smirk vanished as he moved to catch the helmet.

"Get on," Clark commanded. He slipped a pair of dark sunglasses on and waited as Lex fumbled with the helmet. "Hang on," Clark said. Once Lex was securely behind him, Clark tore off into the street. He sped through traffic, twisting and turning around cars and trucks. Lex's grip on Clark's hips tightened.

"You're insane," Lex shouted over the roar of the engine and the sound of rushing wind. Distracted by the comment, Clark didn't notice the light change to red and was forced to stop abruptly. Lex was thrown against him, their bodies pressed tightly together. Clark turned his head and leaned back against Lex, enjoying the feeling of closeness.

"Hang on tight," he told Lex. As the light changed to green, Clark gunned the engine and took off like a rocket. Lex's arms clutched at him, wrapping around his waist. He caught Lex's muttered expletives and something about 'crazy speed demon' before it was lost to the wind.

But Clark didn't care. He was lost in the feel of the motorcycle beneath them as it ate the road up, leaving Metropolis behind. The feeling of Lex's arms around him helped fuel Clark's lust for velocity and he coaxed even more speed from the machine. Lex clung to him as though his life depended on it and that suited Clark just fine.

They were halfway to Smallville when Clark finally slowed down and pulled into a gas station. He kicked the stand down and set his feet on the ground, steadying the heavy machine. Lex pulled away from him slowly, and took his helmet off.

"I guess you like the gift," he said unable to hide the shaking in his voice. Clark turned to look at the man sitting behind him. He smiled when he noticed that Lex was indeed trembling.

"With all those Porsches and shit that you drive, I would have thought you wouldn't mind a little speed," he said with a smirk.

Lex steadied himself against Clark, his hands lingering on Clark's hips.

"Ready for more?" Clark asked as he leaned forward and revved the engine. Just as he took off, Lex grabbed hold of Clark and clung tightly to his waist. Briefly, it occurred to Clark that this had been Lex's plan all along, but moments later he was once again lost in the feeling of the wind in his hair and the body pressed tightly against him.

The ride back into the city was just as invigorating. When they pulled up in front of LuthorCorp, Clark shut the engine off, kicked out the stand and settled the bike on the pavement. Lex still clung tightly for a moment until he realized that people were starting to stare. He pulled away from Clark and practically jumped off the bike, yanking the helmet off.

"You're insane," he growled as he set the helmet down on the seat.

Clark just smiled and held the keys up. "I can't accept your gift. It's great and all, but I really can't take it," Clark finally said after allowing Lex to stare for at least a minute.

"Too late, you already used it and I can't take it back," he smiled with a twinkle of triumph in his eyes, and then took a few steps back from Clark.

Clark shook his head and jangled the keys, eying Lex carefully.

"No strings attached?" he asked guardedly.

Lex smirked and sidled up beside Clark, reaching up to brush at Clark's shoulder.

"I'll call you," Lex said. With those words he turned and walked back into the LuthorCorp building, sparing Clark a brief cocky glance.

10

Clark was growing impatient. He had plenty to keep him busy. Between his job and his parents, who seemed to need him almost every single day, he barely had time for anything else. He'd been hit on more than fifteen times since the first date with Lex, and Clark had turned down every offer. He could have gone out with any one of the women (and two men) who'd shown an interest in him. He told himself he was way too busy. He didn't have time for romance. His rejection of other suitors had nothing at all to do with a certain bald man who had made a pledge to call Clark back. But Lex hadn't called since the motorcycle ride. Not even once to say hello, or something, anything. Maybe Clark had really scared Lex off with his crazy antics, though that hadn't seemed to be the case when Lex had walked away.

Clark went to bed each night, thinking that he was in no way waiting for Lex. He was just concerned about him and his sudden lack of communication. Clark was worried that Lex had somehow fallen, hit his head and completely forgotten everything about their date. It could happen. Clark had seen it happen, as a matter a fact. Living in Smallville, Clark had seen a lot of strange things happen.

Twenty-eight days after the last time Clark had seen Lex, he finally called. It was a nice Friday, so Clark was just coming in from a walk when the phone rang. Lex apologized for taking so long to call back. He didn't bother to explain and Clark didn't bother to ask. To make it up to Clark, he said Clark could decide where they would go. Officially, this was going to be their second date since "the ride" hadn't really counted as such.

"I know where we should go. You need to come alone, no driver," Clark stressed as he tossed his mail aside.

"That can be arranged," Lex replied.

"Pick me up in a car with a back seat," Clark smiled as he undressed on his way to the shower. The implied innuendo did not go unnoticed.

"I know the perfect car," Lex purred into the phone. "I'll see you in fifteen minutes."

Clark ended the call and set the phone on his bed as he slid out of his smelly work clothes. After showing and cleaning up, he dressed in black jeans, a short sleeve black shirt and his motorcycle boots. In fifteen minutes he was downstairs, waiting for Lex. When a large black behemoth of a Lincoln continental pulled up, Clark whistled with admiration. The car's tinted passenger window slid down to reveal Lex sitting calmly at the wheel.

"Need a ride, Kent?" Lex asked with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

Clark slid in beside Lex and barely had the door shut before Lex peeled away from the curb, burning rubber like his life depended on it. Clark quickly buckled up. Lex had worn a dark blue suit with a white dress shirt and no tie. Didn't this man ever relax? Clark should have specified that casual wear was probably best for this particular date, but then what Lex was wearing could be casual wear as far as Lex was concerned.

Clark gave directions to the place as they drove. He managed to rebuff all attempts Lex made to find out what their destination was. By the time they arrived, there was already a line of cars waiting to get in. The sky was perfect, with no more than a wisp of clouds in sight.

They paid to get in and Lex parked the car close to the back away from other cars. He'd kept his expression neutral up until now.

"Are you crazy?" he said as he turned to face Clark.

"Come on, this'll be fun," Clark unbuckled and climbed out to attach the wire to the antenna. He leaned against the car by the driver's side window. The hum of the power window filled the night. He tilted his head enough to look in and see that Lex had crossed his arms and was glaring at him. Clark ignored the cold stare and leaned in to switch on the radio and tune to the station for the movie sound.

"I hope you don't plan to get any food," Lex said frostily. "There is no way popcorn or any other confection is going to see the inside of this..."

Clark slid a hand over the leather steering wheel of the car and watched as Lex's eyes followed his movements.

"I'm starved," Clark said bluntly. After a moment, Lex stepped out of the car very reluctantly. He quickly locked up and followed Clark to the concession stand. Lex cringed at the noise of fellow movie goers and wrinkling his noise at the combined smell of popcorn and hotdogs. A long line and a couple of accidental bumps later, Clark was laden down with a cardboard carry tray that held two large hotdogs with all the fixings, a large box stuffed full of fries and a large Coke. Clark had decided against getting popcorn when Lex had elbowed him and cleared his throat loudly.

"You are not getting into my car with all that food," Lex said again for the third time.

"I can eat outside of the car. Besides, the movie doesn't start for another half hour," Clark grinned as they stopped at the car. "See," Clark said, pointing to the car, "It's still here." Lex had groused just below his breath as they'd stood in line for food that he'd be shocked if the car were still in one piece when they returned.

"That girl at the checkout was eying you," Lex said, an obvious tactic to change the subject.

Clark set his tray down on the roof of the car and popped a fry into his mouth, just as his stomach growled loudly. He picked up a hotdog in one hand and stuffed it down his mouth, biting it in half. Lex's jaw went slack and his eyes glazed over as he watched Clark stuff his face. Usually, Clark had better manners but this was a drive-in, he was eating a hotdog, and he really was starving.

He swallowed the mouthful and licked ketchup off his fingers.

"She was not," Clark finally said in response to Lex's silly accusation.

Lex leaned against the car, crossing his legs at the ankle. He looked really sexy with his arms crossed and his face flushed from the heat of the evening.

"Yes she was," Lex insisted, tilting his head.

Clark swallowed hard and stared at Lex openly while he drank down half his Coke.

"Nuh-uh, she was not," Clark replied. He finished off the first hotdog and offered Lex some of the fries. It sky was starting to darken. The sun had set a few minutes ago and the sky danced with purples and blues. It was beautiful but Clark noted that it was nothing compared to the man just a few feet away. Out of his usual element, Lex still looked just as relaxed as ever now that he'd finally stopped complaining.

Lex tilted his head and smirked. Clark already knew what he was going to say even before he said it.

"Yes she was," he said with a teasing tone.

Clark shook his head and chuckled. "You're really seriously going to spend the date debating whether some random stranger stared at me?" Clark said with no seriousness in his tone at all. Maybe waiting wasn't such a good idea after all. Who needed romance these days?

"She was staring so hard, I thought she was going to jump over the counter to kiss you," Lex said as he pushed away from the car and leaned close to Clark, their mouths inches apart. They stood like that, staring into each other's eyes.

"That would have been funny," Clark said with a chuckle.

Lex reached up and scraped his fingernails gently across Clark's beard, sending a shiver through Clark.

"It's finally starting to cool down," Clark said, breaking the silence.

"I'll meet you in the back seat," Lex smirked and pulled his car keys out of his pocket, pressing the button on his keychain for the automatic door locks. Clark watched as Lex slid (or maybe it was more like a slither) into the car and slammed the door. He gulped the rest of his food down and quickly discarded the trash in a bin nearby.

When Clark joined Lex in the back seat, the sound of the radio filled the car interior and the climate control had been set to a perfect temperature. He settled in beside Lex, taking care not to sit too close. He didn't want to crowd his date. The sound of the beginning of the movie exploded in the car. Clark smiled sheepishly and Lex leaned forward to turn the radio down, giving Clark a great view of his perfect ass. Clark couldn't help but stare at how the fabric of his pants clung to his backside. He clenched his hands by his sides, resisting the urge to reach out and touch. Lex wiggled his ass and lingered much too long for the time it took to turn the volume to an acceptable level.

Clark's own pants were getting tight around the crotch. He shifted uncomfortably as Lex finally settled back down, this time closer to Clark, their thighs brushing together.

"I haven't been to a movie in a long time," Lex said as the movie title flashed across the distant screen.

Clark smiled. "Seriously? What, are you too busy to do normal things?"

Lex shrugged and slipped a bit closer, bumping shoulders with Clark. "Actually, I am. Running a multinational corporation is a lot of work. It requires..."

Clark reached up and covered Lex's mouth with his hand.

"No talking," he lowered his hand and pointed toward the screen. "The movie."

They settled in and watched as the opening scene unfolded. It didn't take long for Lex's constant shifting to distract Clark. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lex watching him. Clark turned his head, and their mouths met in a sloppy wet kiss. Before he knew it, they were a tangle of arms and legs, mouths locked firmly together. Clark grinned against Lex's lips. It was hard not to smile at the realization that they were making out at a movie.

Lex pulled his head back and stared at Clark, his lips quirked.

"What's so amusing?"

Clark reached out and wrapped a big arm around Lex's shoulders, yanking him closer and capturing Lex's mouth in another hot kiss. So he'd tried to get Clark fired and for a few weeks Clark had lost his apartment, but damn, Lex was an amazing kisser and Clark hadn't had any action in a long time. He was so horny and having Lex in his arms and their mouths locked was the nicest thing that had happened to Clark in a long while.

"What about romance and all that talk about taking things slow?" Lex said between kisses.

"Making out on the second date is acceptable," Clark mumbled as he kissed Lex's neck. The glint in Lex's eye should have been a warning, but Clark didn't care. He leaned back against the plush leather seat and Lex slung a leg over Clark's thighs. He deftly unbuttoned the top button on Clark's shirt.

"Really? What else is acceptable? This?" Lex's gaze trailed down to Clark's chest and he unbuttoned a second button, brushing a finger across Clark's bare chest.

Clark took a deep breath and watched Lex's slender hands unbutton a third button. He nodded.

"Sure, that's acceptable," he said as Lex caressed his chest and rubbed a thumb across an already peaked nipple. Clark shuddered, his eyes falling shut. Lex took that opportunity to unbutton the last few buttons, climbing into Clark's lap and straddling him. Clark's eyes flew open.

"How about this?" Lex purred, sliding down Clark's body to settle in between Clark's legs. How the hell was Clark supposed to say no to that? He was already way too excited.

"S-sure," he managed. Lex yanked Clark's shirt open and locked his mouth to Clark's left nipple, sucking hard. Clark moaned and bucked wildly.

Lex trailed his tongue across Clark's chest to catch his other nipple between his teeth, biting down.

"How about this?" Lex asked without releasing Clark's captive nipple.

"Harder," Clark moaned, throwing his head back and cupping Lex's shoulders in his hands.

Lex bit down harder and Clark groaned out loud, his cock jumping in his pants. A hand slid over the bulge in his jeans.

"This?" Lex asked, starting to unbuckle Clark's belt. Clark just nodded and watched as Lex deftly unbuttoned Clark's jeans and slowly unzipped his pants. It was too slow and Clark wanted to tear his own pants down and beg Lex to touch him.

"I'm not stopping you," Clark replied, finally leveling his gaze with Lex's. He hoped that he was projecting just how eagerly he wanted Lex to continue what he was doing.

Clark lifted his ass off the seat as Lex grabbed the waistband of his jeans and slowly inched them past Clark's hips. He paused just at Clark's pubic line, and leaned in to lick Clark's hipbone. Clark shuddered as Lex licked his stomach and very slowly inched the jeans and briefs lower until dark curls sprang up over the edge of the fabric.

"How about this?" Lex asked again.

Clark nodded in response, his mouth hanging open at the sight of Lex on his knees between his legs, teasing and taunting him.

But Lex seemed to have grown impatient with the slow foreplay. He yanked the jeans and briefs down and Clark's hard cock sprang up, slapping against Clark's stomach. Lex's eyes widened with delight. He abandoned the clothes and reached for the thick shaft of Clark's cock. Leaning in with an eager expression on his face, Lex swallowed Clark down, taking the full length in his mouth. The head bumped the back of Lex's throat, as he swallowed around Clark's cock.

"Fuc-!" Clark exclaimed as Lex sucked down his shaft, his tongue practically wrapping around him. Lex sucked on the shaft and gripped Clark in one fist. He swirled his tongue around the tip, and then sucked the head into his mouth, his tongue continuing to swirl even as he sucked. Clark's spit-covered cock jumped, popping out of Lex's mouth. Clark shivered at the feel of air on his wet cock.

Lex grinned up at him and wrapped his mouth around Clark's cock again, his eyes never leaving Clark's face. The feel of his warm, wet mouth on Clark's cock sent shudders through Clark's body. He watched as Lex's head bobbed up and down on his shaft, enjoying the feel of his mouth. It didn't take long before Clark's balls pulled up and he could feel the tingle of his approaching orgasm. He bucked up into Lex's eager mouth and came harder than he'd ever come before.

Not giving him a chance to recover, Lex unzipped his own pants and wriggled them down far enough to pull his cock out. He crawled up to sit in Clark's lap, the shaft in a tight fist, and a smug smirk on his lips. He gripped Clark's shoulder tightly with one hand, digging his nails deep into Clark's muscles. With his other hand, Lex jerked himself off. Clark licked his lips and watched intently as Lex slowly stroked himself. Clark glanced up to lock eyes with Lex. The intimacy of the display sent thrills through Clark. The sound of Lex's heavy breathing filled the car as he began to lose control. It didn't take long before Lex shot all over Clark's bare chest. It was the sexiest thing Clark had ever seen anybody do.

After cleaning up and straightening their clothes so they were at least somewhat presentable, Clark pulled a smugly satisfied Lex close, tucking him under his arm. They lay in a quiet, contented sprawl for awhile. Lex had tucked his hand under Clark's shirt to rest it against the small of Clark's back. Clark wasn't sure if Lex was actually paying attention to the movie. When he glanced down, he saw that Lex had closed his eyes.

"Whatever happened to playing hard to get and wanting romance?" Lex finally asked.

"Playing hard to get is so yesterday," Clark relied with a soft kiss to top of Lex's head.

Lex chuckled lightly. They drifted into another silent moment which could have been awkward and maybe should have been, but it wasn't. Clark tried to pay attention to the movie, but the feel of Lex's warmth and his pulse was way too distracting. It didn't really matter because he'd completely lost track of the plot.

"Do you know what's going on?" Lex suddenly asked.

"You mean in the movie?" Lex nodded and Clark turned his head to stare into his blue eyes. They twinkled in the dim light, and Clark could almost read the other man's mind.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss and everything else around them was forgotten.

End


End file.
